Hoppipolla
by Blanqueraq
Summary: Some changes. Watanuki works for a strange business and its even stranger manager, but at least it keeps him alive. Alive and in one place. Doumeki/Watanuki
1. Broken Bones

_Broken Bones _(1176)

When he finally climbed up the last step of the boarding house to his tiny room, though room was used in the loosest sense of the word, Watanuki hardly felt the legs beneath him he was so tired. He practically crawled through the door, clutching a bottle of rice wine his employer had handed him at the end of the day. Though the alcohol was nice and he knew one other person who'd appreciate it, honestly Watanuki was more thankful for the wad of bills in his back pocket than anything else Yuuko had to offer him.

He managed to get about two or three more feet when gravity took over and his poor weak legs gave up the ghost. His face made fast friends with the thin tatami before he abruptly passed out, bottle rolling by his head.

It was as good a place as any to fall asleep. Though he could imagine what Doumeki might have to say about it, or not say, when he found him.

He didn't wake up until a full twelve hours later. In fact, Watanuki was pretty sure he would've slept longer, but something had disrupted his REM and dragged him abruptly into consciousness. Laying on his side facing the wall, he blinked stupidly and tried to figure out what it was.

His stomach growled. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Watanuki snorted. Of course his stomach would be the thing that roused him. Next thing you know he'd be scrounging around like that oaf Doumeki and demanding handouts with his insufferable, nagging -

"Oi."

Watanuki sat up like a shot. Looking down he finally noticed the jacket covering him, and immediately after, that everything was a blur. He pushed a hand through his unruly mop, before feeling around in a slight panic.

"Where are they?!"

A moment later, some darker series of blurs entered his vision and a much loved pair of glasses was gently pushed onto his face. He blinked rapidly, before refocusing on a familiar sight.

Doumeki. Doumeki really close to his face and studying him with concern in his golden eyes.

"Better?"

"Yes," Watanuki growled, before scrambling backwards a foot. Doumeki just winged an eyebrow as he lifted something to his mouth and took a lazy bite out of it. He then straightened from his crouch and sauntered back over to the window, where apparently he'd been watching life on the street go by.

What a moron.

Tossing the jacket off of him, Watanuki slowly moved to his feet, stretching out his back and other muscles that had tightened while he'd slept. He sniffed the air. One surreptitious glance at Doumeki told him the idiot was thoroughly occupied, and so Watanuki quickly zeroed in on the source of that delicious smell.

A plastic bag by the door. Casually sliding his hands into his pockets, Watanuki sidled up to the guilty bag with the name of an excellent bakery across the front and sneaking another peak at Doumeki, stuck his hand inside to rummage around.

He came out with a couple different pastries. Happily taking a bite out of one, he silently promised to make it up to Doumeki and make a really great dinner.

"Watanuki."

Jumping a foot in the air, Watanuki whipped his head around, his mouth half stuffed with pastry. He swallowed. "Uh, sorry, I didn't have the energy to buy food last night and I haven't eaten in a few days, but I'll -"

"I don't care about that, the rest is for you anyway." Doumeki interrupted, an annoyed look on his face.

"Oh," Watanuki finished stupidly, stuffing another bite into his mouth. He'd have to stop by that bakery again and speak to their chef, because honestly this was the best tasting pastry he'd ever had.

As if Doumeki could somehow read where his thoughts were going, he lifted a shoulder and sighed at him. Watanuki scowled. It wasn't his fault he was starving and had an inquisitive mind when it came to cooking. He'd never heard the idiot complain before.

"Are you going to tell me?"

Watanuki stared for a moment, before shuffling across the room and leaning against the window next to him. They both watched the moderately busy streets in silence.

"No," Watanuki answered finally.

Doumeki squeezed his fists so tight, Watanuki could see the veins pop out. Maybe he was sorry for the idiot's anger, but it didn't mean he was going to change his mind.

Laughing a little to lighten the mood, Watanuki nudged his shoulder. "You met me at a really weird time in my life. I'm sorry."

Doumeki gave him a hard look that easily melted into a reluctant half smile. Reaching out the moron slid a thumb down the side of his lips and came away with a bit of preserve. He licked it off.

Watanuki flicked his eyes away, blushing.

"Don't apologize. I expected as much." He chuckled lightly, content to stare at Watanuki than any of the flurry outside. It was amusing, really, how love could sneak up on you without a word sometimes.

"What, that you met me in a weird place or that I told you no?" Watanuki quipped easily, sticking another piece in his mouth.

"Both, I suppose. You have trouble sharing."

Watanuki sputtered at him, and glared. "Well, maybe I just know who I want to share with! Maybe you're not one of them!"

At the look on Doumeki's face, Watanuki felt instantly regretful. Of course the moron was important to him - and that's what made it so difficult. You want the person you love to see the good things only, never the bad.

Except that wasn't the way to develop a relationship.

Doumeki turned away from him, looking kind of tired and headed over to grab his jacket. The one Watanuki realized with a start that had been draped across his shoulders when he'd woken up.

Biting his bottom lip, Watanuki took a hesitant step forward. "When I was twelve," he began just quiet enough for Doumeki to freeze in the middle of pulling on his coat, "I fell out of a tree I was climbing and broke my arm. My folks were dead by then, so there was no one to ask for help."

He swallowed over the food that now settled uncomfortably in his stomach. "I walked sixteen blocks to the hospital. They patched me up all right, but I learned something from the experience. I had to take care of myself."

He made the last couple steps towards Doumeki and unsure, stuck his hands in his pockets. "Can you be patient with me? I've had a lot of broken bones and they're hard to share with anyone. I will though," He finished quietly.

"With you."

Doumeki glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Abruptly, he turned and grasped Watanuki by the shoulders, hauling him into his chest.

With his lips curved a little, Doumeki pressed his mouth against the gaping one below.

It tasted a little like raspberries, actually.

**Love**


	2. Into Puddles

_Into Puddles _(777)

A thousand tiny raindrops pelted the asphalt, evaporating with a hiss as they touched the ground. It was ridiculously humid that afternoon and even with the sudden shower the temperature didn't change much. Watanuki had to keep wiping off his glasses because of it, but other than that was unaffected, as he'd found a cement overhang to wait under and a railing to sit on.

One of his most favorable past times was people watching, and lately with his long stretches of work then short periods of freedom, he hadn't many moments to indulge. So he did now, while waiting for Doumeki.

Kids running through puddles, splashing mud everywhere, while adults held books, or bags, or newspapers overhead to protect themselves. Like water was somehow going to hurt them. Of course it would hurt their appearance, and people cared about that.

Watanuki shook some of the stray water from his hair. It was difficult, he supposed, to escape the bonds of adulthood, though it was fun to slip the leash now and again.

Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed the boy until he was practically on top of him.

"'Scuse me, 'scuse me, mister! Have you seen my dog?" A scrawny kid who looked about eight or nine, with a noticeable gap in his teeth pulled insistently on Watanuki's pants. Tilting his head, Watanuki looked down at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen your dog," the kid's face fell, his fingers going lax, "but maybe I can help you find him. What's he look like?"

The little boy grinned again. "He's a puppy, gray with one black circle around his eye and a white spot on his back." He laughed, "It looks like someone dripped paint on him."

Watanuki joined in his laughter. "Well that's different. Okay then, lets go."

Dropping off the rail, he followed the boy out into the drizzle and, as if he were listening to something no one else could hear, closed his eyes. He opened them after a moment and turned left.

"I think we'll have some luck going this way. I'm pretty good at finding things."

Completely trusting, the boy blinked up at him and hurried close behind. He smiled and tugged happily on Watanuki's shirt. "I knew you could help! The rain likes you, so I figured that must mean you're a good person."

Watanuki almost stumbled at that one, but he quickly recovered and only turned to look at the boy jumping over cracks next to him. Slowly, he smiled, before moving towards an alley he had a good feeling about.

"You should trust your instincts, I guess," he said quietly, reaching out to ruffle the kids hair.

"Rain's never wrong," small and quite, the boy's voice was resonate with that disturbing certainty children had.

Wantanuki thought it a blessing people were unfortunate to grow out of.

When they turned the corner, sure enough, a fuzzy gray tail was sticking out of an over turned trash can, little growls and whimpers echoing against the metal. The kid whooped happily as he plowed down the narrow street and scooped up his dog. It yipped once before excitedly bathing it's master's face with wet, sloppy puppy kisses. He was already soaking though, so it didn't make much of a difference.

Watanuki crossed his arms and smiled.

"Thanks a lot mister!" The boy said ecstatically, before running back to hug Watanuki's legs and bounding down the road with his dog.

"That was nice of you."

Watanuki shook his head at the familiar presence behind him, and cocked his head to glare mockingly at Doumeki. "You're late."

A light sheen of rain sparkled off the tips of Doumeki's hair and Watanuki found himself staring at it while the idiot shifted, understandably ruffled by his accusation. "Not long, and your changing the subject."

Watanuki flicked his eyes away. "No I'm not. It just took a back seat for a second."

"Ah."

Swiping a tongue across the front of his teeth, Watanuki stared at his fingers where they dug into his arm. "Maybe she's my boss, and maybe she rents my _talents_ for the time being, but outside of that she doesn't control who I decide to use them for."

Doumeki made a calming sound of assent, before he rubbed soothingly at Watanuki's shoulder.

"We should hurry. I've got evening classes in an hour." In a very smooth move, Doumeki slid his hand from Watanuki's shoulder, down his spine and into his back pocket. He gave Watanuki's ass a firm squeeze, before pushing him along.

Watanuki scowled at him impressively. "Keep that up and you'll find chili powder in your food tonight, asshole."

Of course, Doumeki had the gall to laugh at him.

**Love**

A/N: I got inspired by chapter two and decided to make it an actual story. Erm.


	3. Talents

_Talents _(1,060)

"So you found the girl, hm? Not that I need to ask." Yuuko's bored tones washed over him, hardly denting the numbness Watanuki wrapped around himself like a heavy cloak. She continued playing solitaire on the bar top, smoking a thin, vanilla scented cigar. The fragrance was so strong, Watanuki felt nauseated after only a couple whiffs.

He swept his hand back and forth to clear the air. After a moment of silent watching, Watanuki plucked a card from the pile and tossed it on a row.

Yuko lifted an eyebrow. "You always did strike me as an antisocial kid, Watanuki. But at least you're good at cards, which is a skill that can never be under appreciated."

Looking away for a second, Watanuki sidled up closer to the bar until he could lean his elbows on it. He rested his face in his palms with a sigh, not particularly interested in the bullshit his boss was selling, but willing to wait until she was done and he could get his money.

With a smile that was the slightest bit sad at the corners, Yuuko pulled a thick roll of bills from her back pocket. She counted his share while the cigar smoldered quietly, caught between her lips.

"You know," Watanuki began, as he stared blankly at the colorful glass bottles behind the bar, "I could find the bastard in a heart beat. It would only take me a day, two at the most." His eyes hardened and saddened at the same time. "He just left her there, Yuuko, stuffed into a dumpster."

Yuko paused over her counting, expression lax and inscrutable. "There's a reason for every word in my contracts, Watanuki. For every consultation I give our clients." She withdrew the cigar from her mouth, blowing a long stream of smoke into the air, "It's not just for them and their minds, but to protect my employees as well. I am sorry about this one," Her words did hint at remorse, "But you come first. How would we serve the public otherwise?"

Smiling that enigmatic smile, she carefully folded up his cut and pushed it between his elbows. Watanuki said nothing for a long time, before he whispered a soft curse and grabbed the bills, stuffing them into his pocket.

It felt too close to blood money for his liking, but it was rent. Rent and utilities, minor though they were, and food.

"Go to your lover tonight, Watanuki. I think you'll need it." Her voice followed him, as he pushed open the emergency exit door. Sunlight cut through the dank interior like a knife, searing and just a little painful to the eye.

Watanuki had learned over the past couple years to listen when his boss told him something. She was usually right.

At a flat out run he could reach Doumeki's campus in about eight and a half minutes; if he walked the time stretched to double that. He made it to the dorm in ten, only slightly winded and a stitch in his side.

One of the girls who lived there remembered him, and with a smile unlocked the security door so he could get inside. Watanuki had forgotten that Doumeki didn't finish class until seven.

So in the meantime he settled into the other's room, courtesy of the moron's roommate.

Yuko was right, of course, because almost as soon as he laid back on Doumeki's bed, inhaled the scent of him that still lingered on his pillows, Watanuki was calm. The disheveling of his world view wasn't so stark and full of cutting angles. They wouldn't find him, consequently they wouldn't find Doumeki.

For now, at least.

When Doumeki returned from classes he brought food enough for two people. It was uncanny how well he knew Watanuki's habits, but not so when one considered the way they complimented each other. Even when they didn't fit, somehow they did.

Doumeki's roommate had also become aware of their patterns and wouldn't be back until tomorrow.

"Will you tell me about it?" Doumeki asked, tugging his gray t-shirt over his head.

Another habit, Watanuki realized as he placed his glasses on the cheap little bed stand, and swiftly unbuckled his pants. His body was tensed, he knew it, but even though he willed himself not to be he couldn't stop. Unable to see, he felt painfully vulnerable.

Then Doumeki took his hands and placed them on a taunt, overly warm stomach. In an instant Watanuki was relaxed, dragging his palms up and down the contracted muscles, tracing planes and subtle hollows.

It was a banquet to his sense of touch, so much stronger when he could barely see anything besides blurred shapes or colors.

He supposed it was all about familiarity and predictability - and just as Watanuki had known his boyfriend would ask, Doumeki had known he would answer in his own time.

In this instance, not at all, but that was unsurprising as well.

Doumeki kneeled between his legs and slipped his hands up the side of Watanuki's shirt, leaning down to brush their lips together. So close, Watanuki could just make out the red, slightly peeling skin across his nose and cheeks.

He'd have to buy sun block next time he went to the market.

**Love**

A/N: I'm slowly developing a plot that's coming to me in stages. I know some things aren't clear, but its meant to be that way. Some things mentioned are already inherent to the characters, but don't worry, I'm sure I'll get to explaining them eventually. Reviews are love! PS: Hoppipolla is the name of this mostly instrumental song I came across that I absolutely fell in love with - I believe it means "jump into puddles" or something to that effect. I'm not positive though, so don't quote me.


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